Corny Dogs

The child’s dark hair clung to her face in damp strings that she ineffectively but repeatedly tried to push out of her eyes with dimpled hands spread like starfish. Her mother had been wetting her head with water from the kitchen sink in an attempt to keep her cool. The window AC unit in the apartment was broken and the absence of it’s hum meant that they could hear the TV their neighbor kept on continuously. Mama kept every light off and all the blinds closed to keep out the heat. She stood in front of the closed fridge, tapping her foot. She was tempted to open it again, just to cool off a little, but she knew it was a slippery slope to an electric bill they couldn’t pay. Besides, the only thing inside was a half a jar of mayonnaise and a pitcher of water. She bit her lip then cussed under her breath. Sighing, she put the child’s shoes on, gathered the baby and a dirty princess themed backpack that contained her empty wallet, keys, and diapers and left the apartment. The sun hit like a hot slap as the door closed behind them.  Mama humped the stroller down the metal and concrete staircase with the stroller in her right hand, baby on her left hip and the child at her left side, holding on to her worn khaki capris. At the bottom of the stairs, she placed the baby in the stroller. The sweat dripped from her temples and her cheeks glowed pink from the effort. She popped open a dirty green umbrella with a broken prong, holding it with one hand and pushing the stroller with the other. 

The child stood in the space made between her mother’s legs and the stroller and they walked forward, the heat rising in waves all around them. The concrete was hot through the bottom of the child’s plastic sandals as she hurried to keep ahead so that Mama’s toes wouldn’t scrape her heels and pull her shoes off. The child glanced down in the bottom of the basket of the stroller and saw an old goldfish cracker.  She bent over to pick it up and her mother, not seeing her stop, ran into her. The broken umbrella came down, one of it’s prongs poking her in the back. She opened her mouth wide and let out a yell as tears streamed out of her crescent moon eyes. Mama lifted the child's shirt roughly to see if she was hurt, and told her to stop crying, she was fine. The woman squatted there for a moment on the sidewalk of the busy street, patting the child’s back and then she fumbled with the umbrella which now wouldn’t open.  As the child was bent over, her tears fell to the concrete and she watched them splash and leave grey splotch marks, then disappear from the edges inward. She spotted the cracker again, reached in the basket and popped it in her mouth. It was hard to chew, so she sucked on it for a bit until it was soft enough, then swallowed it. It made her very thirsty. She began to yell again, but they were about to cross a busy street, so Mama ignored her fussing and made her hold tight to the stroller between her hands as they crossed. They made it to the 7 Eleven and the woman settled on the curb outside the store, near the shiny silver cooler that contained bags of ice. The child cried, licking the tears and snot as they dripped, her tongue stretching to the limits of its ability on either side of her mouth. Mama gave her the baby’s pacifier to suck on. 

The door of the store opened and closed as customers came and went. They sat there in the shade and a burst of coolness would hit them, accompanied by the overwhelming smell of day old fry-grease. The child asked Mama what the smell was. “Corny Dogs” was her reply. “Corny Dogs!” the girl whispered over and over under her breath. She imagined a big display full of dogs made of popcorn. Her hunger and thirst made her dizzy and the image of golden, lumpy puppies floated around in her head. She imagined people grabbing a handful of their pop-corn fur and snacking as it grew back- an endless supply. 

The child lay with her head on her mama’s thigh, Mama was telling someone that she had no money and that their AC was out and they were hungry. Her voice sounded strange and far-away. The child’s head felt like it was melted into her leg, but she managed to raise it and from the fog of hunger, thirst and heat tried to report what she was seeing in her head. “Doggy Corn!” She heard the laughter of a strange woman, and then the cool burst of the door opening again. 

A few moments later, a golden shape appeared before her eyes and a voice said “Here’s your Corn Dog.” She looked at the blob of fried dough on a stick and looked at her mama. Mama nodded, encouraging the child to take it and instructed her to say “thank you.” The girl’s hunger overwhelmed her disappointment that the corn dog was not what she had imagined, so she ate, biting through the crispy exterior to be surprised by the slimy pink interior, and found the saltiness overpowering.  She looked up and the woman loomed large and shadowy. Her blond curly hair made a big bright fuzzy halo at the top of her bulk. “If I gave you money, you’d just spend it on booze instead of feeding your babies.” She said and walked away.

The child finished the corny dog. Her stomach felt like it was flipping inside out and her thirst became unbearable. “Juice! Juice!” she cried. The baby woke up and joined, a chorus of tears. Mama put the pacifier back in the baby’s mouth and moved them around the corner. They waited outside the bathrooms. The child didn’t want to walk or stand, and pulled on her mother's leg, begging to be held. Mama caught the door as someone was leaving it and they went into the smelly dark bathroom. She used her hands to scoop water from the sink and held it for the child to drink. It was lukewarm, but it helped.  She patted down their heads with her dripping hands and splashed her face. “More.” the child said, and she was lifted up to drink from the sink. She hung there, the sharp edge of the faucet digging into one side of her face while she drank and drank, watching the excess water swirl around the brown crust outside of the drain and slip into the darkness.